


Something Worth Fighting For

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Galra Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top Shiro (Voltron), Wet & Messy, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Keith's never heard of a love confession triggering a Galra Heat, but there's apparently always a first time for everything.





	Something Worth Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

> I received a request for Galra Shiro AU waaaay back in January so lol better late than never, right? Right?? (Also so anyway, Galra have self-lubricating assholes now. Don't look at me. We all know why we're here.................................) 
> 
> Thank you, as always, to [Juna](https://twitter.com/springofviolets) for reading this over for me. ♥
> 
> (Edited December 2019 for typos/grammar.)

Keith rips off his mask with a barely suppressed snarl and throws it on the ground once he and Shiro return to base. He feels Shiro tailing him, as he always does— on missions and when back on base— and normally it would flood him with a deep affection. Today, he just feels frustrated, too agitated to do anything other than rattle right out of his skin.

“Shiro,” he growls, turning to face his partner. 

It’s the first thing he’s actually said to him since wrapping up the mission. He watches Shiro’s ears flick back, pressing close to his skull, his tail arcing in low swipes as it drags across the ground. He’s tall, but his shoulders turn rounded, a guilty slump. He might be the tallest Galra that Keith’s ever seen, but in this moment he almost looks small. 

“I know you’re angry with me. But I don’t know wh—” Shiro begins. 

“Draw your blade,” Keith interrupts, stepping onto the training floor. The door whooshes shut behind them. It’s an odd point in the night, since they’ve just come back from mission, so the room is blessedly empty. Usually the room’s swarmed with Blades training. 

All the better now. Keith isn’t about to let his frustration out where others might see. He still has a lot to prove, after all, and the last thing he needs to do is show his weakness like this. After today, he just needs to get that anger out; frustration with Shiro aside, he knows Shiro will protect the vulnerability he’s showing now. It’s odd, to trust someone but also be _angry_. 

“Keith,” Shiro says gently, taking a step towards him. He’s not drawing his weapon, Keith notes with a pinch of anger. “I don’t want to spar right now. We should rest. It was a long mission and—” 

“Too bad,” Keith cuts off. “That’s what we’re doing. Draw your blade.” 

The blade in Keith’s hand glows as it transforms, and he doesn’t wait for Shiro to draw his own before Keith’s launching at him. 

They’re familiar enough with each other’s styles. They work together and train regularly. Out of anyone in the Blade, Shiro’s the one who would know Keith’s moods and fighting style the most. It’s why they make a good team. 

And it’s why it’s so frustrating when Shiro easily side-steps Keith’s pivoting swipe. Shiro knows this move like the back of his hand, knows Keith’s favorite moves just as easily as he knows his own. 

Keith growls and launches after him, unwilling to relent. 

“I’ll prove it to you!” Keith snaps and Shiro’s eyes widen as Keith goes low, swinging his blade up. 

“Prove what?” Shiro asks, stumbling back in his attempt to dodge Keith. Shiro is massive, tall and broad, and it’s easy to forget how even-footed and quick he can be, how well he can adapt to their stealth missions. Despite that, though, Keith has the upper hand when it comes to speed and agility. With each dodge Shiro takes, Keith is there, ready to pivot and dive back towards him. 

“I’m not weak!” 

Keith snarls and sweeps his blade in a wide arc, angling for Shiro’s metal arm. He watches Shiro’s face pinch and, finally, he draws his blade to block the attack. His sword bursts into that familiar purple glow and lengthens, just in time to block Keith’s attack. 

“Keith—” 

But Keith isn’t listening. He steps back just to dive back in again, aiming for Shiro’s weaker spots— low to the ground, where it’s harder for him to reach. Keith is angry, he knows, but it’s frustration more than true anger towards Shiro. He doesn’t want to hurt him. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for Shiro to keep blocking him, neither of them landing a blow. 

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Shiro insists, stumbling back as his tail snags on the lip of one of the training mats. He looks bewildered and exhausted from their long, three-quintant mission, his ears drooping. “Why do you think—” 

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Keith snaps, cutting off with a frustrated grunt as Shiro parries another attack. Keith stumbles back, shoulders rigid and fist clenched at his side. “What is it, Shiro? You don’t trust me to take out enemies on my own? I always need you sweeping in to do it for me?” 

Shiro’s eyes widen and the defensive stance he’s holding drops immediately. If Keith were really fighting him, this is when he’d attack. Take advantage of the weakness. He’s felled enough enemies to know how to do it quickly and efficiently. Instead, Keith looks away with a frustrated grunt, blinking his eyes back against the swell of shame that rises in him. 

He hasn’t brought it up before now, but this mission was the last straw. Keith hadn’t landed a single hit before Shiro swept in and took out the enemy sentries himself with the glow of his metal arm and a swipe of his tail. 

He _knows_ Shiro. He knows it isn’t some need for glory or to show off. He knows that he doesn’t see Keith as lesser. It’s why it hurts so much, to think that his perception of Keith as someone who needs protection is so deep that he doesn't even know it's there. 

Shiro looks stricken though, his eyes wide as he looks at Keith. “You— you think I do that because I think you’re weak?” 

“What else am I supposed to think?” Keith cries out and returns his blade to the sheath at his back, staring at the floor. Just as quickly as the fight rose in him, it now drains away. “I know you have my back, Shiro. I know we’re friends. But I _know_ what the others around here think about me… I didn’t think you’d think that, too.” 

“I don’t,” Shiro insists. “I didn’t— _Keith._ ”

He steps further into Keith’s space. With a sigh, Keith looks up at Shiro as he comes closer, frowning. He knows, in the end, that it can’t really be that— knows that Shiro can’t see him that way, because it’s Shiro and they’re friends— but it still thrums painfully in his chest. Shiro’s the one person who’s always looked out for him here. He figures that Shiro’s one of the few friends he has left in the universe after his disastrous attempt at leading Voltron and his subsequent bridge-burning running to the Blade of Marmora. 

“What, then?” Keith asks. 

“Keith,” Shiro murmurs. “I don’t do any of this because I think you’re weak.” 

“I get it, okay? I’m half-human! I’m smaller than most of you, _especially_ you. But I’m strong. I can carry my own weight. I can fight.” 

“Keith, you’re the strongest fighter I’ve ever known,” Shiro answers. He still looks stricken, ears drooping and entire expression miserable, like it physically pains him to hear these things from Keith. 

“Then why?” Keith snaps. 

Shiro’s quiet for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. A flush rises high on his cheeks, standing out even against his markings and his fur, his cheeks a deep red-purple. In any other circumstance, it’d be endearing— Shiro’s been blushing more and more, it seems, and Keith’s always liked that. For everything he knows about the Galra being cool and collected, Shiro’s only ever been friendly and open with him. He can’t recall seeing another Galra blush as much as Shiro does. 

“I want to protect you,” Shiro admits in a quiet voice. 

Hearing the words, Keith stands there in a stunned silence absorbing that information. He plants his hands on his hips and looks up at Shiro, eyes narrowed. Shiro’s ears press tighter against his skull, blush spreading across his face, even bleeding into his ears. 

“I don’t need protection,” Keith answers, frowning.

Shiro shakes his head, just barely, and sighs. “I know. But I…” 

He hesitates, glancing at Keith, trying to read something in his eyes. Then, he lifts his hand and reaches for him. Shiro’s fingers brush along Keith’s cheek, along the new scar there. Keith stares in shock as Shiro’s expression twists up with guilt. 

“You—” Keith begins, realization setting in. “Are you _blaming_ yourself for what happened?” 

Shiro’s thumb presses along the line of Keith’s scar. It’s Keith's newest injury, now healed over, the result of a brutal fight that Shiro was losing until Keith charging in as backup and took the brunt of an attack meant for Shiro. 

It was hardly the worst injury Keith has experienced. Both of them have scars on their body that prove deeper, harsher attacks. The scar on Keith’s cheek is so small in comparison.

But now that Keith thinks of it, it was after that mission and injury that Shiro started jumping into Keith’s fights. The realization sinks heavy like a stone in his chest. 

“Shiro!” Keith cries out.

Shiro doesn’t flinch, but the guilt spreads across his face. He looks away, mouth quirked into a frown. “You got hurt because of me. Because I couldn’t carry my own in a fight and—” 

“No!” Keith interrupts.

Shiro’s mouth snaps shut. He looks at Keith with undisguised alarm. 

“I want— I want to protect _you_ ,” Keith snaps, face twisted up halfway between concern and frustration. “This—” He gestures to his scar. “This doesn’t matter to me if it means you’re safe. I—” 

He flounders as Shiro blinks at him as if Keith’s just said the most outrageous thing in the world. 

Quieter, Keith amends, “You have no idea what you mean to me, do you?” 

“We’re friends,” Shiro answers, almost obediently. 

That much is true. They’ve been working together ever since Keith passed his Trial. Shiro’d been the one to kneel beside him later and help tend to the wound on his shoulder; he hadn’t spoken a word as Keith stayed near-comatose, stunned by the knowledge of his Galra heritage. Shiro’s hands had been so gentle and so large against his body as he wrapped Keith with bandages and gauze. It’d been strange to see such a large Galra be so gentle, so precise in his movements. It never even occurred to Keith to be afraid. 

Later, when Shiro’d been assigned as his partner within the Blade of Marmora, it’d been an easy friendship. It’s been phoebs now since he’s started working with Shiro, and Keith’s so grateful for each moment he’s been able to spend with him. He’s never felt this way about anyone— not back on Earth, not with Team Voltron. No one. 

Shiro is, Keith knows, probably his first true friend. 

And Keith can’t fathom how he himself could be worth protecting. 

“Shiro,” Keith says softly and isn’t sure what else to say. 

Shiro’s ears ease away from his skull, just a little— not quite quirked up like usual, but at least pressing forward, listening to Keith carefully. He’s still blushing. Keith studies this with a quiet sort of fascination, watching the changes in Shiro’s expression. 

“You don’t think I’m weak?” 

Shiro shakes his head. “No… No, Keith. You’re so strong. You’re so brave and so smart and so…” He fumbles a little, looking down, a tentative smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Amazing.” 

Something pools in Keith’s gut, fiery and unexpected, and Keith swallows. He waits for the feeling to go away but it doesn’t. It isn’t like blushing, really. It’s a desire, building inside him— a need to fight, to get closer, to sink his teeth into something. He’s never felt this before. 

“Shiro,” Keith says quietly. He takes a deep breath.

He doesn’t wait for Shiro to answer and launches himself at him instead. Shiro’s eyes widen and he barely has time to get his hands up before Keith is on him, sweeping his leg out to catch Shiro from behind the knees.

They fall to the ground in a heap and Keith rolls up, getting his hands around Shiro’s shoulders to pin him down. But Shiro’s already moving out of his grip, getting his leg hitched around Keith’s waist to try to twist them around and pin him instead. 

“Keith!” 

Keith doesn’t make it easy on him, growling out as he twists and slinks out of Shiro’s hold. Every place Shiro touches seems to burn him, sparks of electricity shooting up his spine. 

Shiro might be stronger, but Keith can maneuver. They grapple with each other, twisted up on the floor, but there isn’t as much frenzy to it as before. Keith’s body feels like a fireworks display. 

Shiro’s tail wraps around Keith’s waist, an attempt to throw him off, but Keith just growls low in his throat and curls his hands tight around Shiro’s wrists, using all his strength to pin them down over his head. 

“ _Yield,_ ” he hisses at Shiro as he plants his full body weight against his stomach, sitting on him and pinning him down. 

Shiro gasps for breath beneath him and, slowly, his tail loosens its grip around Keith’s body. Keith’s skin is pinpricks, a full-body blush stretching down his neck. He heaves in breath like he’s drowning. 

Shiro studies Keith’s face, frowning, and then whispers, “I yield.” 

Keith sucks in a breath but doesn’t let go. Shiro looks up at him, cheeks flushed and breathing just as heavily as Keith. Keith studies the little wisps of fur at his jawline, his big ears, his bright eyes, the slope of his scar across his nose. It strikes him, not for the first time, how handsome Shiro is. 

Fire runs up his spine as he thinks it. How handsome Shiro is, panting for breath, sprawled out on his back beneath Keith. 

Keith doesn’t even think of it when he lets go of Shiro’s wrist and touches his face instead, fingertips tracing his scar and then the line of his jaw, the furred edge of it. Shiro sucks in a breath, chest swelling up as he blinks at Keith. 

“If you think I’m strong… why do you protect me?” Keith asks, voice breathless, and not just from the fight.

Shiro tilts his head, studying him, and Keith’s fingertips bump against Shiro’s cheek. “Do you think I’m weak, Keith?”

“Of course not,” Keith counters.

“So why do you want to protect me?” Shiro asks quietly, his freed hand lifting to touch Keith’s scar in turn. Keith feels himself gasp for air— and it’s a barely there touch, a nothing touch, but it’s almost too much. Shiro looks just as winded. 

Shiro hesitates and then smiles, slow and tentative, meeting Keith’s eyes. Keith knows his own answer, but the idea that Shiro might have the same reason— Well. He’s never let himself consider that before. 

“Shiro…”

“I’m happy we met, Keith,” Shiro says. “I’m happy I know you. I want you here.” He swallows, looking unsure for a moment, spread out on his back as Keith straddles him. “I… I know the Blade puts the mission above all else, that we can’t hesitate just because we might lose those we know, but I— I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Me too. I— feel that way about you, Shiro,” Keith answers, stunned. 

They fall into silence with that, stretching long and expansive between them. The room feels so empty suddenly, quiet save for the sound of their panting breaths. They stare into one another’s eyes, not looking away. 

“I know you can take care of yourself. I trust you to protect yourself. I trust you with my life, Keith. But I…” Something seems to clear in Shiro’s eyes. He takes a deep breath, not looking away from Keith when he says, “We’re fighting to save the universe— to make things better. But, Keith… my universe is a better place with you in it. I never—” he pauses, some of the confidence draining from him as he admits in a quiet voice, “— want to be without you.”

If Keith felt like he was burning before, it’s nothing in comparison how he feels in the wake of Shiro’s words. Fire ignites inside of Keith, blazing and consuming. He’s never felt anything like it. He stares at Shiro in a stunned silence, his heart galloping away from him. He’s _on fire._

He tries to will himself to speak but his words burn away in his throat. It’s overwhelming, everything he wants to say and do and feel at once. 

He’s silent for too long, though. Keith knows it. He watches Shiro’s ears droop, just a little. He watches the breath wisp out of Shiro as he seems to deflate beneath him.

“If it bothers you—” Shiro begins.

“Shut up,” Keith cuts off, breathless, and then stoops down to kiss Shiro. 

Shiro’s response is immediate. He kisses Keith back with a low groan. It’s soft at first, just a whisper of their breath and a brush of their lips, but then Keith splays out over Shiro’s body and presses closer with a gasp, kissing him with everything he is. 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers against his mouth, drawing away enough to gasp for breath. He feels like he’s suffocating, his body burning and aching for air. He’s almost light-headed with it. 

Shiro takes a deep breath, too, a sharp inhale. His eyes fly open wide as he looks at Keith and understanding dawns in his eyes. 

“Keith,” Shiro murmurs, voice wondering. This close, Keith sees the moment Shiro’s eyes darken, his pupils slitting like a cat’s. 

Rather than respond, Keith squirms closer and kisses him, biting down at his bottom lip and then slanting his mouth against his, breathing out and swallowing each little sound Shiro makes. 

Shiro’s hands are big when they land on Keith, trailing up his spine. Keith can’t help the involuntary keen it draws from him and his body arches. He feels Shiro’s tail curl around his thigh and hold there, the bushy end of it settling at the top of his thigh, almost at his hip. It’s intoxicating. 

Shiro is panting when they draw away again, face flushed and lips parted, kiss-swollen. Keith did that, he thinks with no small sense of pride, the fire in his belly growing, flooding through him. 

Their eyes catch and hold. Both breathing heavily, they don’t look away from each other even as Keith dares to drop his hand and run it over the length of Shiro’s tail. He knows it’s sensitive and his reward is Shiro’s eyes fluttering a bit against the urge to shut. He arches beneath Keith and it only fuels Keith onward. 

He doesn’t even think of it when he rocks his hips down and presses more fully against Shiro. And it’s then that he realizes, with a coil of pleasure deep in his gut, that they’re both hard. He can feel the swell of Shiro’s cock through their uniforms, and suddenly the space between them is too much.

“ _Shiro_ ,” Keith hisses. He needs to get closer. 

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs in response, overwhelmed and breathless beneath him. “Keith—” 

Keith doesn’t resist the urge to rut back against Shiro’s cock. He squirms, swiveling his hips so he rocks down against the hard line of him. Shiro throws his head back with a groan, his hands tightening on Keith’s back. Keith doesn’t stop, his cock hardening as he moves against Shiro. 

“Keith,” Shiro says again, a plea. One hand grips Keith’s hip, massive against his body, and guides Keith back. Keith lets himself get manhandled, moaning out and feeling his cock twitch in his uniform. Shiro’s hands are so _big._ He’s always thought so and has never let himself fully appreciate it as he does in this moment. 

Shiro’s cock, too, Keith thinks as he slides against it, must be massive. 

Keith sits up abruptly and reaches for his armor, ripping off the chest plate and sending it flying with a clatter across the floor. He grabs Shiro’s and yanks it off, too. They’re left only in the undersuits. Keith skims his hands down Shiro’s heaving chest, appreciating the thick, steady strength of his body, the lines of his muscles beneath the suit. 

“I want—” Keith says, hushed, following the urge of his body, that roaring fire as it settles through all of him.

“Yeah,” Shiro murmurs, face flushed so bright, his eyes dark. He wants it, too, Keith knows. He must be burning up, too. 

Keith digs his fingers into Shiro’s undersuit and yanks. It rips apart easily in his hands, almost damnably easy, splitting at Shiro’s chest and then downward as Keith yanks, until his front half is exposed, strings of suit against his body. 

Keith sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts up enough to see Shiro’s cock, thick and ridged. It’s nothing like a human dick— long, thick, and purple. There are ridges running the whole length of it, and the head is flat and blunt. 

“Wow,” Keith says, staring at it. 

Shiro laughs, deep and rough. “Yeah?” 

“ _Yeah,_ ” Keith answers and then keens when Shiro’s hand rests heavy against his chest, pushing him back and digging his claws in. 

Keith bites his lip with a whimper as Shiro shreds through his uniform. With utmost care, he peels Keith’s uniform away from his body. It rips in little strings across his stomach, his crotch, even down over the tops of his thighs. His suit is ruined. Keith feels himself blush as he’s exposed. 

He’s never felt so small than being like this for Shiro, on his knees above him, holding himself up and away as he stares at Shiro’s body. Shiro studies him in turn, his hand resting against his heaving belly and studying the curve of his cock as Keith pulls it free, holding it at the base. 

“Don’t say it’s cute,” Keith tells him, eyeing Shiro’s besotted expression.

Shiro looks away from Keith’s cock to meet his eyes instead and says, deeply earnest: “I think you’re beautiful.” 

Keith can’t think of a single moment in his life in which anyone has ever called him beautiful. He gasps out, shuddering, and drops forward to kiss Shiro again, squirming against him. He paws at Shiro’s left arm, ripping his glove off so he can feel his hand pressed to his. He yanks his own gloves off in turn, throwing them aside before scrubbing his bare fingers through Shiro’s hair. 

They kiss slow, but no less heated, only the hush of their breaths to guide them, the little gasps Shiro licks from Keith’s mouth. 

Shiro’s hands come up and rest heavy at Keith’s hips. Keith whimpers, reaching down to grab his hands and guide them back to cup his ass instead. 

“Let me feel you,” Keith growls against his mouth, and then lets out a pleased sound when Shiro obeys him, digging his claws into his uniform again and ripping it apart, exposing his lower back and ass. 

Keith rocks back, slides skin-to-skin against Shiro’s cock. It makes Shiro break the kiss with a loud groan, his hips jerking up involuntarily, sliding against Keith. 

Keith’s own response is immediate. His body pulses and he feels himself start to slick up in anticipation. His cock throbs against his belly, dripping precome, and he wants to spread himself open and take Shiro’s cock deep inside himself. Keith’s slicked up enough just from the thought of it inside him.

He thinks, with unrestrained delight, that if he were to reach for Shiro, too, he’d find him just as slick for him. He imagines how Shiro would groan when Keith’s fingers sink inside him. 

“Shiro,” Keith pants. “Shiro, please.” 

“We shouldn’t here,” Shiro says. His protest is choked off as Keith runs his hand over the full, thick length of his cock, pressing his body back against it so it slips between his cheeks. 

Keith’s already wet and sloppy for him, and he feels Shiro’s precome lubing his cock up, making the movement between them smooth and frictionless. His cock is huge, slipping between Keith’s cheeks and then against his thighs, wet with Keith’s slick. Keith can’t help the whimper, how flushed he feels from the obscene width of Shiro’s cock, how excited he is just from rutting against him. 

He thinks, distantly, of one of the Blades telling him in passing about Galra heats. It was early on, back when Keith was trying to figure out everything he could about his Galra heritage— something to explain why his cock flushed purple sometimes when he got off, why his body slicked up whenever he got excited, the yellowing of his eyes when in the middle of a fight, his fangs sharp enough to pierce his own lip if he wasn’t careful. 

Shiro had once explained it in more detail (blushing the entire time), while on mission during a Blade equivalent to a stake-out. It’d been one of their first deep conversations and certainly their most embarrassing. 

But a Galra Heat seems the best way for Keith to explain the burning inside him. He wonders if he’s slipping into a heat now, just from the sheer strength of his desire, the realization that Shiro wants him, too. 

“You can fuck me,” Keith whispers, nails digging deep into Shiro’s chest as he leans forward, rocking back against Shiro’s cock. He’s so big and Keith is so small. His body trembles from pure want. “Look at how much I want you to fuck me. You can feel it, can’t you? You can smell me.” 

“Keith,” Shiro chokes out, voice gravelly with desire. 

Squirming closer, Keith feels his impatience building, feels the last dredges of his embarrassment melting away. Shiro wants him. He can see it in his eyes, how he stares at Keith and refuses to look away. 

“Can’t you?” Keith goads.

“Yes,” Shiro answers, quiet. He’s too restrained. 

Keith lets go of the last of his uncertainty and presses to Shiro. 

“I want it,” Keith tells him, can’t even be embarrassed by the things he’s saying— not if it means he’ll get what he wants. “Want you to fill me. Want you to fuck me until I pass out. I want to feel you for days, Shiro.” 

“ _Keith._ ” 

“Don’t you want it, too?” Keith asks, rolling his body back against the thick cock, dropping one hand to cup it over the blunt head, thumb pressing against his slit. His cock is weeping, so wet he can barely keep a hold on it. “Mmm,” he hums out, body trembling. “Fuck. Shiro. Don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to make me yours?” 

Shiro’s nodding, biting his lip hard as he whimpers and rocks helplessly between Keith’s cheeks. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah. I want you. I want you so much, Keith.” 

“You can have me,” Keith purrs, body trembling against Shiro’s cock. “This is good. This is so good, but you know I want you inside me. Want to be spread around you. Look at how ready I am for you.” 

He realizes he’s actually purring, a rattling in his chest he can’t contain. His entire body is singing. He’s already entirely Shiro’s and his body knows it. He doesn’t want anyone else, could never ask for anyone else. 

He grabs Shiro’s cock and guides it back against his hole, all slicked up for him. He’s a mess already, sweat at his brow, his undersuit ripped apart and his body wet for Shiro. 

“Just fuck me,” Keith growls. “ _Fuck me._ ” 

Shiro growls back and silences him with a kiss, biting down hard enough on his bottom lip that it stings. Keith lets out a pathetic little mewling sound and melts against him as Shiro licks into his mouth and kisses him deeply. 

“You’re always such a warrior,” Shiro purrs once he draws back from the kiss. He lingers close, his mouth brushing against Keith’s as he speaks. “Always ready for a fight.” 

“I’d have done this forever ago,” Keith moans, “If I knew I could have you.”

“You have me,” Shiro promises and his cock twitches between Keith’s cheeks. His hands at Keith’s hips shift away and one curls around Keith’s cock. 

It’s huge, dwarfing Keith’s dick entirely. Keith gives a muffled cry as he throws his head back and rocks helplessly into Shiro’s hand. He slips back, nearly falls, and Shiro’s cock falls from between his cheeks, pressing instead against his thigh. Keith whimpers, pawing at Shiro’s chest for something to hold on to. 

“Shiro,” he whines when Shiro strokes him. He fists Shiro’s cock with his hand, squeezing. “Want you in me.” 

“Let me prep you, at least,” Shiro says. 

“I’m ready,” Keith insists.

“I’m big. Just… let me make sure you’ll be okay.” 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Keith whines and then strokes Shiro’s cock quickly, squeezing hard at the head. “I just want to fuck you!” 

Shiro groans and rocks helplessly into Keith’s hand. Keith marvels at his sensitivity, but can’t help but feel insecure about how much smaller he is in comparison. It's a quiet fear that he won’t be as pleasing for Shiro. But Keith keeps stroking, unwilling to give up. If Shiro thinks Keith’s approaching this like a fight, then he’ll just make sure he’s the winner of it. 

He’s merciless with Shiro’s cock, stroking firmly from tip to base, squeezing tight and sweeping back up again, twisting his hand and curling his fingers tight around the blunted edge of his cock. He thumbs at each ridge as he works his way down and focuses on the third edge of Shiro’s dick when it makes him cry out. Keith twists his hand, squeezing, stroking thumb and fingers over it and then sweeping away just as soon as Shiro’s rocking hips stutter haphazardly. 

“Keith,” Shiro sobs out, rocking desperately up into Keith’s hand. 

“Come on,” Keith murmurs and presses his thumb hard up against the underside of one of his ridges. 

“Keith!” Shiro cries out and comes with long, thick ropes across Keith’s thighs and stomach, even so far as to hit his chest. Keith stares down at himself in no small amount of wonder, at how covered he is. 

“It’s so much,” Keith marvels as he strokes Shiro through his orgasm, staring down at his body, the streaks of come across skin and suit. 

Shiro growls, low and throaty, and then focuses entirely on Keith. His massive hand curls around Keith’s dick and tugs. He strokes Keith off until he cries out, his come joining Shiro’s across Keith’s chest and stomach. 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers once he catches his breath again, chest heaving and body shivering. Shiro curls his arms around him, sitting up enough to kiss him, bodies pressing together. 

“Is it always this messy?” Keith asks, running his hands over the mix of slick and come between his thighs.

Shiro nuzzles his shoulder, ears flicking back as he blushes. “Only when you’re in a heat.” 

“And we’re—” 

“Yeah.” Shiro blushes and admits quietly, almost shy, “I think we’re feeding into each other.” 

“Okay,” Keith sighs, trembling. He assesses the heat burning through him. He swallows. “I feel like— I just need you inside me.” 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, weakly, biting down gently on Keith’s shoulder. “It can be a lot.” 

Keith shakes his head, running his hand down the length of Shiro’s arm, touching his hand. 

“Take care of me?” Keith asks.

“Always,” Shiro promises. 

“Please, Shiro.” 

Shiro hums, picking up Keith’s hand with his own, running a thumb over his knuckles. Then he smiles, shy and sweet, and retracts his claws before reaching down to run his hand over the swell of Keith’s ass. He presses between Keith’s cheeks, stroking over his slick hole. 

Keith keens and Shiro kisses him quiet. Keith wants to fuck, wants to feel Shiro buried deep inside him, but Shiro’s always telling him to be patient and maybe, just once, he’ll listen if it means he’ll get what he wants. He squirms in Shiro’s lap and spread his legs wide as Shiro prods at him with his fingers, slipping two inside him, thick and wide. Keith gasps, arching against Shiro as he starts methodically and brutally fingering Keith open. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Shiro tells him, gently. He’s breathless, his chest heaving in his effort not to fall fully into a mindless heat. 

“It’s not _enough,_ ” Keith snaps, squirming down to meet his fingers. “Shiro. I want you.” 

“I want you, too,” Shiro tells him, voice quiet but heated through. He kisses Keith’s jaw and down his neck, nuzzling and biting. Keith whimpers. 

Keith tries to coax him, but Shiro won’t be swayed. He’s slow in opening Keith up, and it just sets Keith ablaze. Coming once wasn’t enough to sate him and he’s consumed entirely, every inch of his body a livewire. He strokes Shiro off with a punishing pace, making him come again before Shiro even deigns to spread him open on three fingers. 

Soon, Keith’s covered in Shiro’s come, sticky with it all over. It’s on his face, on his chest, in his hair, his thighs, his quivering stomach. He’s marked entirely and he wants _more._ He needs it inside him. He needs to be stuffed full of Shiro. He doesn’t need three— he’s wet and ready for Shiro. 

He curls around Shiro, kissing him again and again, gasping for it. 

“More,” he whimpers into Shiro’s mouth. “Give me more.” 

“I will,” Shiro says, a soft promise as he kisses him. “I will, but— I should clean you up. I should—” 

“No,” Keith demands, shoving Shiro down onto his back. Keith rocks back, putting himself on display, running his fingers up his stomach and chest, the stringy mess of his ripped suit, smirking down at Shiro. “Look at how good you covered me, Shiro. Don’t ruin your good work.” 

Shiro groans, pupils blown wide. 

“I’m ready,” Keith says. “Stop making me wait. I’ve waited so long for you.” 

Shiro’s eyes are so dark and he hardly needs the convincing. He draws Keith into his lap, adjusting beneath him to ensure Keith's comfort. It’s sweet, but Keith’s burning. Shiro shuffles back a bit, spreading his legs for Keith. Keith drapes his legs over Shiro’s thighs, hands braced against Shiro beneath him— Keith feels so exposed, his cock hard against his belly. 

“Ready?” Shiro asks him, running one large hand along Keith’s thigh. The other grips himself and Keith squirms up, feeling Shiro’s thick cock pressing against his hole. Keith can only nod, unable to put his desire to words, but he knows that Shiro can sense it, can smell it on him, and he buries his face against Shiro’s shoulder. 

Shiro must be feeling this burning just like Keith is— if it’s a heat, it’s impossible for him to resist the singing in his veins, the desire to take Keith and hold him close— but Shiro is careful, slow as he presses the blunt head of his ridged cock up against Keith’s willing, waiting body. 

Keith lets out a sound that, embarrassingly, sounds like a mewl. He quivers as Shiro presses inside him. Shiro’s cock is much thicker than his fingers, of course, and all Keith can do is tremble in Shiro’s arms. Shiro holds him close, his hands soothing over him as he slowly presses inside Keith. 

Shiro eases in, an almost unbearable slide, and Keith’s rim catches on each ridge as he opens to Shiro. He whimpers, head tucked up against Shiro’s shoulder, sounds punching out of him in pleased hiccups. He feels boneless, vision blacking out from pleasure as he adjusts to the breach. 

Keith’s never felt so full. He gasps for breath, trying to keep himself relaxed as Shiro eases inside. He aches for Shiro to just thrust into him, but he knows Shiro’s caution is warranted. He grips Shiro tight, nails digging in. Shiro feels massive, splitting him open, and Keith clenches his eyes shut, body arching as he tips forward, squirming against Shiro. 

“Shh,” Shiro soothes, his chest rumbling with a purr as he rocks his hips up in slow little circles, letting Keith sink deeper against his cock. The purring soothes Keith, and he feels himself relaxing. Shiro noses at his shoulder and neck, licking over his skin. “You’re so good,” he whispers. “You’re so good, Keith. I— you feel so good.” 

Keith whines, swiveling his hips and moaning weakly when he takes Shiro’s cock deeper. He must have nearly all of him inside because he can feel the obscene spread of Shiro’s bulbous base. His rim feels so stretched, so full— it’s almost too much, but Keith never wants to stop. 

“Shiro,” he sighs when he’s fully seated in Shiro’s lap. 

Shiro runs his hands over him, petting him and nuzzling against his neck. Keith’s trembling, unsure what to do first, what to do with his hands. He fumbles but manages to run his fingers over the back of Shiro’s neck and over the short buzz of his hair, curling around his ears and staying there. He huffs out a breathless laugh and presses his face into Shiro’s hair, returning the haphazard nuzzle when Shiro bites at his neck. 

“Okay?” Shiro mumbles.

“Mm,” Keith agrees. The fire’s still burning inside him, but it feels right to have Shiro's cock within him, to be so full of him. He squirms in Shiro's lap so he can curl his legs around his hips and stay pressed there. 

Keith drops his hand down, though, can’t help but feel at himself, that spot where Shiro’s body meets his. He touches at the base of Shiro’s cock, fingers brushing at his rim where he’s stretched so wide. Shiro sucks in a sharp breath and Keith can’t stop the helpless whimper that presses out of him. He feels around, exploring through touch. 

“You’re so… fucking big,” Keith moans. 

“Glad I prepped you now?” Shiro teases and kisses his shoulder. 

Keith doesn’t answer with words, lifting his hips and then dropping back down into Shiro’s lap just to hear Shiro gasp a broken, pleased sound. 

“Move,” Keith hisses and Shiro obeys him, gripping Keith’s hips and rocking into him. 

Keith sobs out his moan, quick to match Shiro’s pace and roll his hips down to meet him. Shiro rocks up, tentative at first, just shallow little thrusts that leave Keith gasping and craving more. He plants his hands on Shiro’s shoulders and uses him to pull his body up and drop back down onto his cock, letting gravity guide him. 

Shiro’s so big inside him, but it feels right. It feels perfect. His body is open and ready for him and he moves in time with Shiro. His body’s singing, craving more and wanting to give more. He drags his hands over Shiro in an attempt to touch all of him. 

“I— I never—” Keith huffs out, breaking off midway with a low moan as Shiro rolls his hips up. His pace is punishing only in its slowness, with the deep, shuddering thrusts he hits Keith with. “I’ve never felt this,” he confesses. “A heat.” 

Shiro groans and can’t hold back the little thrust, harder than the others, and Keith mewls happily. 

“Me neither,” Shiro confesses, breathless. He stares at Keith like he’s everything— and god, Keith thinks, maybe he is— and grips Keith’s hips tight. “Keith— _Keith._ ”

“Yeah,” Keith pants, unsure what he’s responding to, only knowing he wants everything, he wants it all. He wants to never be apart from Shiro, he wants to never stop feeling so full. He looks up at Shiro and arches, kissing him sloppy and slow, swallowing Shiro’s quiet moan.

They move like that, their pace deep and unhurried, and Keith clings to Shiro. 

“It’s so much, it’s so much—” Keith babbles, rolling his hips down, bouncing on Shiro’s cock, trying to coax a harsher pace from Shiro.

His own cock is an afterthought. He’s so busy writhing on Shiro’s that he doesn’t realize Shiro has a hand on him until he feels his orgasm mounting.

Keith watches the way Shiro’s hand passes over him, how easily he grips Keith’s smaller cock in his hand, pulling him apart just like that. 

Shiro thrusts up and Keith’s breath hitches, eyes slipping from Shiro’s hand and to his stomach instead. He doesn’t even think of it when his hand presses against the swell of his belly, and he _feels_ Shiro thrust up.

“Fuck!” Keith shouts, overwhelmed by it, and comes.

It rattles out of him, and Keith can’t tear his eyes away from where his stomach bulges, from where he can see and feel Shiro’s cock moving inside him. It’s too much. It’s everything. 

“Shiro!” Keith cries. “Fuck! Come _on_!” 

Shiro laughs, breathless and almost hysterical, and grips Keith’s hips tight, driving into him as Keith writhes. It’s just on the edge of overstimulation, to feel Shiro fucking him right after coming. Keith loves it. His cock is so wide inside him, his body slick with their come, his body bowed and open. He can feel every place Shiro touches him— his cock, his hands on his hips, his thighs beneath his, his lips against Keith’s pulse point at his neck, lapping in little kitten licks at his skin. 

Keith can feel Shiro’s orgasm build inside him, every pulse and twitch of his cock. He can feel Shiro’s pleasure in the frenzied way he thrusts up, in the gasping huff of his breath at his neck, the tight grip of his hands on his hips. 

He comes inside Keith with a muffled cry and Keith groans his approval, tightening his hold on Shiro and keeping him there as he comes and comes and comes inside him. It’s so much, it’s _so much_ but Keith never wants it to end. He squeezes around Shiro, his own quiet demand, and Shiro buries his face against Keith’s neck and sobs his name. 

Once Shiro comes back down, he curls around Keith entirely, boneless as he cuddles up to him. 

Keith half-expects the heat inside him to abate, but it doesn’t. It simmers low in his gut, a pool of embers, but he knows it isn’t gone. He luxuriates in Shiro’s attention though, letting Shiro lick over his skin, scenting him, nuzzling at him, his arms looped around him and keeping him upright. His tail curls around Keith, the bushy end tracing up Keith’s spine. 

When Shiro pulls his cock out of him, Keith gives a mournful cry at the sudden emptiness. He feels some of Shiro’s come slip out of him along with his slick and he mourns that loss, too. His body feels too hollow.

“Shiro,” he keens, something like a plea, and Shiro rumbles out a low sound and pulls him close. Pressed chest to chest, Keith can hear the beginnings of Shiro’s purr, how it rattles in his chest in soothing vibrations.

Keith pets his hands down Shiro’s back, letting his nails catch and drag, just a little. Soon, Shiro’s purr is loud, rumbling between them, full enough that it feels like Keith’s purring, too. 

“How are you feeling?” Shiro whispers in his ear, almost inaudible under the volume of his purring.

Keith hums, slumped against Shiro’s chest and tracing his fingers down his spine. 

“So good,” he murmurs.

He runs one hand up Shiro’s back and over his neck, touching at the back of his ear. Shiro’s purr hitches and then kicks up in volume. Shiro smiles, almost sleepy, as he watches Keith. Keith smiles back, noting the flush to Shiro’s cheeks. 

He looks down, studying the space between them. “You’re still hard.” 

Shiro blushes more, turning his head and nosing at Keith’s palm when his hand dislodges from scritching his ear. He licks a long stripe against the tendon in Keith’s wrist. 

“You sent me into a heat.” 

“Yeah,” Keith says, wondering. 

“It’ll last a few vargas,” Shiro answers. “I think.” 

“In that case…”

Keith squirms up, catching Shiro’s mouth with his own, pulling him into a biting kiss. He cups Shiro’s face, dragging him down and biting at his mouth, mouthing his name before pressing closer to him with teeth and lips and tongue. Shiro breathes out his name in turn and returns the kiss, bowing into Keith, holding him close and kissing him like it’s the only thing he’ll ever want to do again. 

“Come on, Shiro,” Keith murmurs against his mouth. “You can fuck me again, can’t you? I still need more of your come.” 

“ _Keith._ ” 

“I need you,” Keith moans, squirming. “You need me.” 

“Yes,” Shiro agrees, breathless. He groans when Keith’s hand drops and slides down his cock. 

“Look at how small I am next to you,” Keith says, marveling, curling his fingers as best he can around the width of Shiro’s cock. “You fill me so well, Shiro.”

Keith kisses up his jaw, nuzzles against his ear, then bites down gently at the furred edge just to hear Shiro’s delirious shout. His sense of smell isn’t as strong as Shiro’s, but this close, Keith thinks he can tell how much Shiro’s body is singing for Keith’s, too. 

“Fuck me,” Keith whispers. He nuzzles at his ear and kisses the spot just below it. “Make me feel so good. Come on,” Keith says as he guides Shiro’s hands down to hold Keith up, hands wrapped easily around his thighs. “I take you well, don’t I?” 

Shiro nuzzles at Keith’s shoulder. “Yes,” he says in a soft voice. “So good, Keith.” 

With Keith’s coaxing, Shiro moves, guiding Keith down against him. Keith wails in relief as Shiro lowers him down onto his cock, his body bowing as he’s filled again. He’s slick with Shiro’s come and his own, and it’s an easier slide this time. He’s soon filled again, Shiro’s cock thick inside him. He whimpers, throwing his head back and pressing against the long line of Shiro’s body, squirming in his lap as he adjusts to the heavy bulge of Shiro’s cock once more. 

“Shiro,” Keith purrs, curling his arm tight around Shiro’s neck, dragging him down so he’ll kiss Keith’s shoulder. Shiro obeys the command, nuzzling and licking at his neck, purring low to match Keith’s purr. 

Keith’s hand flutters over his stomach, feeling for the bulge again, eyes snapping shut in delight at the feeling of it, of being so irresistibly full. Shiro rocks up and he feels his cock slide, feels the bulge in his belly. 

“So good,” he sighs, rocking his hips a little to meet Shiro’s.

They set their pace again, but Shiro’s on the edge of frenzy already. Keith can feel the pull of his own heat, that desire to just go mindless and fuck. He thinks Shiro must feel it, too, must be bowing to his pressure as he ducks his head against Keith’s shoulder and bites down with his fangs, sharp enough to leave a mark. It’s luxurious, the thick drag of his cock inside him, the slick, squelching slide of their bodies together. 

“Keith,” Shiro says in a soft voice, like a plea. 

“I’m here,” Keith tells him.

“Keith,” Shiro says again, almost mindless with it, his movements frenzied as he fucks into him. “Need you. Want you.”

“You’ve got me.”

“Mine,” Shiro whispers against his neck, mouthing against his skin, his fangs dragging. 

“Yours,” Keith agrees, rocking his body down to meet Shiro. 

He presses his hand tight against his belly and scrambles for one of Shiro’s hands, guiding it to press there, too, so he can feel himself. Shiro’s breath hitches and he groans out low, throaty and needy. 

“Is that—” 

“Yes,” Keith answers. He presses Shiro’s hand tighter to his belly as he rocks down, taking his cock. He can be good. He can make it so good for him. 

Shiro whimpers, biting his lip hard. The sound trails off into a pleased purr when Keith threads his fingers through Shiro’s, holding tight there against his stomach. Shiro thrusts hard into Keith just to feel the slide of his cock inside him. His hand flexes and presses against Keith’s stomach.

“Wow,” Shiro sighs into Keith’s ear and Keith keens, arching up, delighted to have pleased him. 

Keith’s getting loud. He can’t recognize any sort of language, only that he’s moaning and gasping, muffled syllables of Shiro’s name as he rocks down to meet the thrust of his cock, as he feels everything inside him, feels the slide of his cock bulging his belly. 

Shiro nuzzles and licks at his cheek, mouthing at his jaw, panting out his name in something worshipful and devotional, and Keith’s never felt more powerful than he does in this moment, pressing down into Shiro’s lap and squirming, the cock deep inside him. 

“Not enough,” Keith groans. “Need more.”

“I’m inside you,” Shiro reminds him with a groan and Keith feels his cock twitch. And it’s true— he’s inside him, he’s full of him, he can feel Shiro in every inch of his skin.

And it’s not _enough._ Keith whimpers, squirming, hand falling back to pull himself open for Shiro, thrusting back to meet his cock. 

“Shiro _ooo_ ,” Keith whines. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. “Need you. Need to be full.” 

“I’m here,” Shiro growls, primal and needy. 

“Fuck me open,” Keith begs. “Please. I need _more._ It’s not enough. I’m burning up, Shiro.” 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers. 

“Fill me,” Keith begs, bobbing on his cock. “ _Fill me._ ” 

Shiro considers for a moment, or at least turns as thoughtful as he can when he’s in the thick of their heat, mating Keith and delirious with desire. 

But when Keith feels Shiro’s finger squirm inside him alongside his cock, the gasp rattles harsh and ragged out of him. It’s practically a yowl. 

“Fuck!” Keith cries out. “F— fuck!” 

His hands drop down, spreading himself open for Shiro. Shiro’s free hand plants itself on his back, supporting Keith as he rocks down into Shiro’s lap, unbalanced and frenzied for it, riding his cock and his fingers as they push inside him. 

It burns, how widely he feels spread open. But his body sings, delighted and sated by the stretch. 

“God, fuck! Fuck, Shiro!” Keith sobs, riding Shiro’s cock. It’s thick and pulsing inside him and his fingers are so big inside him, too. He bites his lip, whimpering, his purr rattling out of his chest. “You’re so good. You’re so _good—_ ” 

“Fuck,” Shiro groans, thrusting hard inside him, fingers pressed inside him and spreading him open. “ _Keith._ ” 

“Fuck me harder!” Keith commands and Shiro obeys him, his pace punishing as he rocks hard into him. Keith gasps with each thrust, body threatening to tremble apart. “You’re so big. God… how are you so big?” 

“You take me so well,” Shiro whispers, voice wondered despite the ragged edge of desire in his voice. He moans, loudly, panting out Keith’s name as Keith rides him with brutal precision. “Fuck. Keith, I—”

“Come in me. Fill me!” 

He squeezes around him and gasps his name and that’s enough. He feels Shiro come inside him and, once more, he feels so luxuriously full. He pets his stomach, pawing at Shiro’s hand, just to feel him, just to treasure him, just to reward him for what he’s doing for Keith. It’s everything. 

When he comes back to his senses, he knows it’s to a litany of _mine, mine, mine,_ , panting it against Shiro’s neck as Shiro slows the thrusts of his hips and starts petting his hands over Keith, soothing him. He must have climaxed, too, because his stomach and chest are slick with come. 

And maybe together, they do go mindless— Keith doesn’t know how long their heats will last, it could be vargas and vargas for all he cares. He only knows the desire to feel Shiro against him, to fuck what’s his, to be fucked by who he belongs to. He closes his eyes and rolls his body down to meet Shiro’s. Shiro is always there, too, always there to meet him. His hands hold him, protective and certain, guiding Keith down and rocking hard into him. 

He wants to be filled again and again. He wants to feel Shiro inside him even once they’re done. He wants to feel Shiro forever. 

Keith loses track of how many times they come, only knows the feeling of Shiro’s hands on him like a brand, how effortlessly Shiro lifts him and pulls him back down again. Keith needs it all, needs more of it. Shiro pulls out of him only for Keith to beg him to return. 

When he drops his hand down again to feel at himself, his rim puffy and abused, his body trembling with the force of his orgasms, his fingers come away slick with Shiro’s come. He leaks with evidence of Shiro’s devotion and still he needs _more._

By the time he’s done riding Shiro for whatever turn it is now, all he can do is slump forward with Shiro still buried inside him, splayed out across his chest. Shiro presses a haphazard kiss to the crown of his head and then licks his hair. He must have come in his hair that Shiro’s trying to clean up for him. 

He doesn’t know if it’s delirium, but as he lies, sprawled out in Shiro’s arms, Shiro’s dick buried deep inside him, covered in come, Keith can’t help but start giggling. He presses a hand to his mouth to try to muffle the sounds, but he can’t help it. It bubbles out of him. 

“Wow,” Keith breathes, hiccupping a little laugh. He licks his lips. His laughter is helpless. “How much did we just fuck?” 

Shiro doesn’t look much better. His stomach and chest are covered in Keith’s come, his hair matted up against his forehead, expression completely sexed out. They’re an absolute mess, their uniforms only tatters and strings now. Shiro smiles, big and moony and disbelieving, as he watches Keith laugh helplessly in his arms. 

“You wore me out,” Shiro confesses, breathless.

“I could keep going,” Keith admits, hips squirming just a fraction, just to feel the shift of Shiro’s cock softening inside him. 

If he waits long enough, maybe he’ll get hard again and just keep fucking him. He doesn’t want to reach the moment when Shiro pulls out of him— it’s too empty, it’s always too empty. 

“You feel so good. I… feel so good.” 

Shiro kisses him, and Keith giggles into it, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and holding him close, kissing him slow and sloppy. His hum trails off into a pleased purr as Shiro licks into his mouth. 

“I love you,” Shiro says quietly once they part, pressing their foreheads together. There’s something nervous in his eyes as he says it and Keith wants to banish that doubt immediately.

“That much is clear,” Keith sighs. He kisses him again, just a little peck and can’t even begin to hide his helpless smile. “Hey… I love you, too.” 

Shiro beams at him, ears perking up. Keith laughs, cupping his hand against his cheek and guiding him in, kissing him again and again. 

“Now what?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Keith shrugs, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s cheek, following the line of his marking. “I don’t know the protocol on romantic relationships within the Blade. Are they going to try to separate us?” 

Shiro shakes his head and tightens his hold. “Let them try,” he growls out low against Keith’s throat as he presses a line of kisses down the column of his neck. “Who better to watch my back on missions than you?” 

“Yeah,” Keith answers, hushed, and cups Shiro’s cheek. “I’ll protect you.” 

The heat still builds between them, but it seems they’ve reached the apex of their jointly triggered heat. Keith doesn’t feel quite so frenzied. Shiro looks like he might pass out at any moment. Keith pets his fingers along the fur on his shoulder, then traces the line of his clavicle and the raised edge of a scar. 

“Are you going to let me carry you out of here now?” Shiro murmurs, petting his fingers down Keith’s back. 

Keith looks around the still empty room. They’re still deep in the night, but they’re risking it by falling into a heat in the middle of a public space. Then again, likely anybody who passes by will be able to smell their heats and know to stay away. 

Keith blushes. Shiro smiles at him, shy but sweet. He stretches up with some effort and presses a kiss to Keith’s cheek. He flops back onto his back with a pleased smile, triumphant. 

They’re a sticky, wet mess, their uniforms torn beyond repair. 

“… How are we going to get back to our quarters?” Keith asks, eyeing the mats which will, undoubtedly, require a deep cleaning. 

Shiro laughs, blushing. “Well. Guess we’ll have to be stealthy.” 

“Dunno if I can move,” Keith confesses.

“I’ll carry you.” Shiro presses a kiss to his cheek then licks a line down his jaw. He rumbles out a purr as he cleans Keith, tasting himself. 

Keith sighs and closes his eyes, resting against Shiro. 

“Or,” he whispers, letting the word hang in the air.

“Or?” Shiro prompts, smiling against his skin.

Keith wriggles his hips back and is delighted when he feels Shiro’s cock twitch again in interest. “Or,” he says, “We can see how long we can go.” 

Shiro laughs, hands folding over Keith’s hips, and rising up to kiss him. Keith already knows he’s won. 

“My ferocious warrior,” Shiro purrs into his mouth and then drags him down into his lap again.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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